On the table in the mobile home of Hagit and Amihai Carlebach, in the illegal West Bank outpost of Mitzpeh Lachish, amid the remains of the vegetarian Sabbath-eve meal, are an empty bottle of red wine, empty beer cans and a bottle and a half of arak that was laced with raspberry syrup and drunk in shot glasses. Around the table are the Carlebachs; Shmuel Friedman, a friend serving in the Haredi Battalion of the Nahal Brigade; Yael Bilia, a neighbor, and her boyfriend; and a soldier from the Lavie Battalion, which is in charge of rotecting the outpost.
The Carlebachs' trailer is at the edge of the outpost, which is not fenced. Only a few hundred meters separate it from the first houses in the Palestinian village of Beit Awa. Some of the mobile homes are surrounded by concrete barries, erected after the terrorist attack on the nearby settlement of Negohot on Erev Rosh Hashanah 2003, in which Eyal Yeberbaum and Shaked Avraham, a seven-month-old infant, were murdered. There is no fence around Hagit and Amihai's trailer, but their blood alcohol level is high, like their mood. Somewhere in the room are a rifle and a pistol, but for now, atop this lovely quiet hill, with everyone's stomach full and Hagit handing out books of Hebrew folk songs, it's easy for everyone to want nothing more than to go on drinking and singing. The first song, "You" by Uri Assaf, is chosen by Yael Bilia, 22, who moved here four months ago. She was evacuated from her home in the Gush Katif settlement of Netzer Hazani, in the Gaza Strip, during the disengagement. Gush Katif is where she met Hagit and Shmuel, who are from Neveh Dekalim. When they get to the line "The waves of the sea destroyed your home," Friedman bursts into tears, possibly lubricated by alcohol. He remains distraught until he goes to sleep. "The expulsion from home still hurts so much and doesn't go away," he says the next morning.
Bilia's eyes are also red. While trying to calm Friedman, she recalls a deceased relative who was reinterred inside the Green Line after the disengagement. Hagit tries to cheer everyone up and go on singing, but Amihai urges her to let their guests vent. "It's healthy," he says. Two hours later, Hagit also breaks down.
"It's something delicate that people are still living with," Amihai explains. "These people don't have a home now. The families split up, which split up the community, too. Much time has passed, but people are still living in Nitzan
, not in a real home." Nevertheless, none of those present is even considering the possibility of avoiding another trauma by leaving the illegal settlement. Legal proceedings against Mitzpeh Lachish have already made its evacuation possible.
http://www.haaretz.com/hasen/spages/956802.html